Sbahnak
by Peachly
Summary: A series of family oriented stories centered around Sbahnak, the son of Jim and Spock, as a young child. Maybe also when he is older.
1. Explode

"It's educational, I promise," Jim says grinning and glancing to me before looking back to the road. "You'll approve."

I frown slightly. "If I will approve, there is no reason you should keep it secret from me. The fact that you will not tell me our destination only causes me to suspect that I will object."

He rolls his eyes. "There is a completely valid reason. And it isn't because I think you'll disprove."

"Enlighten me," I say, slightly mocking the tone he frequently uses when he speaks the phrase.

"I'm keeping it a secret so it _stays_ a secret. I know you: you can't keep anything from him, especially if he gets worked up enough. You'll come up with some excuse, like it's logical to alleviate his anxiety, and tell him so the surprise is ruined."

I hesitate, knowing I cannot refute the accusation. "He has inherited your pout," I say and look to the backseat on the driver's side.

Sbahnak is bouncing on the seat in anticipation. It is something he had consciously stopped himself from doing earlier, but his mind has wandered and he started again. He is stretched up, attempting to see more out of the window while staying firmly buckled into the children's safety seat. Both lips are held between his teeth. The irises of his eyes are the same blue as those of Jim. His eyebrows are angled closer to that of a Human. His skin is pale, but his red blood shows through his slight pink flush. Pointed Vulcan ears peak out of scruffy black hair. He needs a haircut.

I turn back. "I do not understand why it must be a surprise."

"Are you kidding?" Jim laughs. "When we get there, he's suddenly going to be so excited. He'll be on the verge of exploding."

"No one can explode from excitement, father," Sbahnak chides, schooling his face back to neutrality after he realized he was frowning.

Jim adjusts the rearview mirror to look at our son. "Sure! I saw it happen once."

"Nuh-uh!" He crosses his arms. "It is impossible."

"Yes-huh," Jim grins. "It totally happened. Didn't it?" he asks, glancing to me.

I reach up and readjust the mirror to its initial position. "It was a rather unfortunate event."

Sbahnak's eyes grow wide, and his jaw drops. "It really happened?"

"The Xplohdi experience a major chemical imbalance when they become overly joyful. Their ambassador had never been aboard a starship," I hesitantly explain. "A lieutenant arrived to conduct him on a tour."

"Needless to say, he was thrilled." Jim turns the mirror back. "The poor crewman had to shave _all_ his hair and smelled like onions and sulfur for the next year."

Sbahnak giggles.

I move the mirror again. "It caused a diplomatic incident that nearly resulted in war and Lt. Farrell is still receiving therapy. I see nothing about this that is amusing."

The boy quickly clasps his hands over his mouth to stop his laughter.

"I certainly do," Jim says and reaches for the mirror again, but I send him a warning glare and he retracts his hand. "The guy apparently wasn't well-liked on his planet because eighty-nine more people exploded when it was announced. One of those was his wife."

I can hear Sbahnak's giggles muffled through his hands.

I nod. "It was one reason why their culture has adapted a philosophy much like Vulcans."

Jim slows and makes a right. He has gotten better about driving wisely while our son is in the car. He still drives much too fast for my liking if it is only me with him and even faster if he drives alone, but I have yet to convince him to stop. We soon pass a large brightly colored sign proclaiming a salutation.

I look to Jim with a slight smile on the edge of my lips. Jim beams back.

I approve.

It takes 7.3 minutes to find an empty parking space once we pass the large gate. Once parked, I exit the car and open the trunk to take out the supply pack. It contains a medkit with allergy hypos and bandages, food prepared the night before, snacks prepared this morning, bottles of water, a second pair of clothing (for both Sbahnak _and_ Jim) and a camera.

By the time I walk around the vehicle, Jim has unbuckled our son, placed him on the ground and closed the door. I look down to Sbahnak. He is tense and very still, tightly covering his eyes.

Jim frowns down at him. "What are you doing? Look where we are."

Sbahnak shakes his head, which proves to be rather difficult with his hands over his eyes. "I don't wanna explode."

I glare at Jim for scaring him. A huge grin splits Jim's face despite the fact that he's trying to hide it. He kneels down and places his hands on his shoulders. "No, no! You're not going to explode. It's just Xplohdians who do that."

"But Vulcans have to control their emotions too."

Jim looks up at me with an expression that silently conveys the sentiment, 'haha, this totally wasn't my fault this time'.

I feel rather chastised. I stand straight and make my face and voice stoic. "_Sa-fu,_ you will not explode, regardless of how excited you become."

Sbahnak tilts his head up to look at me but still has his palms over his eyes. "But you said, _sa-mekh_."

"I said we share similar philosophies. I did not say we follow them for similar reasons. Vulcans do not explode. Unless by external means," I add.

Jim sends me a scolding look and mouths 'why would you tell him that?'

"Oh," the boy says, relaxing. "You are sure?"

"Of course," Jim says, giving his shoulders a squeeze. "I've excited your dad_ lots _of times and he hasn't exploded." He looks up at me with a sultry smile, which I meet with exasperation. Jim stands and ruffles his hair, which does not make it look any more disheveled than before. He still needs a haircut.

Our son gives a strong nod before lowering his hands and carefully opening his eyes. He looks up at Jim who grins widely down to him. He hesitates before grabbing onto one of Jim's jeaned legs and peering beyond him.

Sbahnak gasps. "THE ZOO!"

* * *

**Author's note: **I decided to start a family series centering around Jim and Spock's son Sbahnak. This chapter is the same as the one in Illogical, but I don't really want to delete it from there. Since it also belongs here, I'll just have it be at both places. I made him a bit more human than Spock since he's probably only 1/4th Vulcan. Where did he come from? Test tube baby? Surrogate mother? Adopted? Stork left a basket on the door step? ...Mpreg? I'll just leave that up to your imagination and probably won't ever address it. His name means 'red cheeks' in Vulcan.

Peachly

P.S. Yes, it is pronounce 'explodey'. I blame it on the fact I've been playing Ace Attorney, which is full of name puns.


	2. Painting

I walk into the apartment and sniff the air. It takes me a moment to recognize the smell of paint. I walk to the living area and find Jim and Sbahnak sitting on the carpet next to the coffee table. The table is covered in papers and painting supplies.

Real paint. Real and messy paint. There is technology that allows children to create picturs without the risk of mess. Of course Jim would prefer the less efficient and unpleasant way. They are both, of course, covered in paint. Luckily Jim was wise enough to put an old thick sheet down to protect the carpet.

Jim grins widely when he sees me. "Hey, babe. You're home pretty late."

I had to stay late to monitor a problem and could not leave for home until 2030. I nod and approach them. They are both holding a picture.

Sbahnak looks at me blankly, though his blue eyes show happiness. His black hair is slightly less unruly than usual, as it had been recently cut. His pointed ears are more visible through the shorter hair.

Jim motions me closer. I lean down and he gives me a quick kiss. "What blew up in the lab today?"

An eyebrow twitches. "The Higgins' Regulator." As I had warned them. I look down to the pictures. The picture in front of Jim is rather skillfully done. It is a scene of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was not professional, but still rather impressive.

I take the picture from Sbahnak. It is not quite as remarkable. It is either a canine or a bovine. Maybe. It is difficult to say, as it is blue and red, and rather bulbous. "Did you draw this?"

"No." Sbahnak frowns and looks rather affronted. "Dad did."

I raise an eyebrow and look to Jim, who shrugs one shoulder. "I was never really that artistic." He reaches up and takes the paper.

"What is it supposed to be?" I ask.

"Those weird animals from Kappa Ceti. Those gopher things that pooped gold."

I notice the yellow circles near the animal's posterior. "I see," I say slowly. I do not mention that they were blue and yellow, not red.

"I think it's pretty good though. For me anyway. Definitely one for the fridge," he jokes.

"It cannot go on the fridge," Sbahnak says, wiggling his fingers to loosen the drying paint. "Only the best pictures go on the fridge. You said so."

Jim looks at him with a mixture of amusement and defensiveness. "It's the best I can do. It goes on the fridge."

"It is not good enough for the fridge," Sbahnak states in a way that indicates the discussion is over.

"I bought that fridge. I get to decide what goes on it; not you," Jim says, pointing a blue finger at him.

"Actually, I believe it was I who bought the fridge," I interject. "You bought the dishwasher."

Jim frowns and looks at his picture. "Well," he says slowly. "I bought the magnets on the fridge. If I can't hang my picture up, I'm not letting you use them to hang yours." He reaches over and flicks the tip of Sbahnak's nose, leaving a blue mark.

Sbahnak glares and rubs at his nose with his hand, only causing yellow to also mark his nose, now making it a combination of blue, yellow and resulting in some green.

"_Sa-mekh_ gets to decide because it is his fridge. He will be the judge."

Before I can say that it belongs more to the family than solely me, Jim gives a loud 'ha!' "Fine. I'm sleeping with the judge. It'll go on the fridge for sure."

"What does sleeping in the same bed have to do with your picture?" Sbahnak asks, confused.

Jim pauses before looking up at me with a smirk. "Wow, I'm going to love having that conversation when he's old enough."

"What conversation?" he asks quickly. He always dislikes not knowing what Jim and I talk about.

"The Conversation, kiddo," Jim says.

"_The _Conversation?" he asks, leaning closer with a great amount of interest. "Is there a specific conversation we must have?"

"It's like a rite of passage. You're too young now, but you'll get it eventually. But don't be too excited," Jim added at Sbahnak's widening eyes. "It sounds awesome now, but you'll feel awkward when it happens."

This advice does not seem to deter his curiosity. "What is The Conversation about?"

"Let us get back to the topic at hand," I say, before Jim can comment further. It is not a very good topic, but it is better than where the current exchange was going. I turn to our son. "I believe we should allow your father's picture to go on the refrigerator," I say.

Sbahnak looks at me surprised. "Why?"

"He is human and has emotions. Not allowing him to hang his picture may cause him to be sad," I say before adding, "Your father does not like to feel inadequate and he requires constant praise or he will begin to sulk."

In my peripheral vision, I can see Jim give me a dirty look that tells me I will pay for this later tonight; however, I admit that I have never found payment that unpleasant. It is rather unsuccessful as a deterrent, though I assume he is already aware of that fact.

Sbahnak thinks for a moment. "Very well," he concedes, looking to Jim. "But only so you do not feel sad for your lack of skill."

"Thank you," Jim says cynically.

Sbahnak carefully raises and takes both of the pictures into the kitchen.

"Did you truly wish for your picture to be attached to the refrigerator?" I ask quietly.

"Not originally," Jim says. "But I'm not about to let him put down my picture. If he's going to forbid it, of course I want to put it up."

Sbahnak returns and begins to put away the painting supplies.

"Don't worry about it," Jim says. "I'll clean it up. Go get cleaned up and ready for bed."

Sbahnak nods dutifully and places the brushes back down.

"I will come visit you once you are in bed," I say.

Jim gives a loud kiss to his cheek. He would normally ruffle his hair, but refrains since his hands are covered in paint.

Sbahnak heads towards the bathroom.

As Jim begins to pick up the art supplies I go into the kitchen to procure myself a glass of water. I glance to the refrigerator to see the pictures. Sbahnak's is placed prominently in the middle. Jim's is lower and off the side, tilted at an angle. It takes me a moment to realize it is placed upside down. I raise an eyebrow and adjust it. I doubt it was done on accident.

I return to see Jim start to walk back towards the bedrooms with the paint in hand.

I raise an eyebrow as I watch him. "What are you doing with those?" They normally belong in the cabinet on the other side of the living area.

He smirks as he looks back. "You get to be my canvas tonight."

* * *

**Author's note:** My dad always gives me the "I bought it" line in my car when he messes with the air conditioning while I'm driving. It seriously pisses me off, but I can't do much about it. I'd do the scene about Jim painting on Spock for Illogical, but I'm thinking about doing an art!AU story and it'll go in there. If I ever manage to get moving on it.

Peachly

P.S. I love a huffy Sbahnak.


	3. No Win Scenario

Thunder crashes, and the intensity of Sbahnak's shaking increases greatly for a moment before calming down again. He sits on my lap, clutching my shirt. He came running to me at the first rumbles, too low for human ears but easy for his surprisingly sensitive hearing, on par with a Vulcan's, to detect. I had picked him up and brought him over to a couch that did not face the windows.

He projects strong emotions of fear and worry. For our sakes, yes, but mostly for Jim who is stranded at a grocery store, the nearest place he could pull the hovercar over to before the storm hit. Jim only had a moment at the comm. console to grin and assure Sbahnak he was fine before he had to disconnect to allow others to contact their own homes.

Unfortunately, it did not lessen Sbahnak's anxiety.

I cannot say that I was not shocked the first time it occurred. I feared that something was wrong with him when he began to cry, but Jim quickly came to his yelling and held him through the storm. I later expressed worry for Sbahnak; I had never seen him react in such a strong way when he was frightened. Jim assured me that being frightened of thunderstorms was very standard during human development, and that it will not last long past childhood.

It was true that his reactions had grown less severe than they initially had been. Originally, he would cry, no matter how much Jim or I would comfort him. Now, he may sob, but there are rarely any tears. If the storm is significantly loud, Sbahnak will insist we retreat down to the basement of the building, but Jim always refuses, thinking that it will be detrimental to him growing out of this phase.

Jim is much better at calming him down in these situations than I. He will often rock him and talk to distract him. I, however, never know what to say. I am not skilled at idle speech.

A Vulcan parent would reprimand their child for reacting in such a way, saying it was illogical for them to be frightened when the probability of being harmed was so low. Many take solace in this way of thinking, just as I had as a child, but Sbahnak does not adhere closely enough to the Vulcan philosophy for it be very effective.

So I merely hold him to my chest. Although it never seems to stop him from shaking, I could feel that his emotions were more stable.

I search for something to say. Jim is always better at telling stories. They usually describe our different encounters during our commission aboard the _Enterprise_, obviously embellished to be more fantastical and climactic. They are often simplified to him and I being the 'heroes' and the other characters consisting of only crew members Sbahnak has met, McCoy, Nyota, Sulu, Scott and so on. He often pins me into the 'damsel in distress' role, which I cannot say I find flattering. Or accurate.

There is a flash of lightening. Sbahnak buries his face into my shirt and I am struck with an idea. "Have you heard the story of how your father and I met?" I ask.

"Dad told me about Nero," he says, his voice soft and cracked.

"But did he tell you how we met?"

Sbahnak looks up at me, his eyes are wide with fear, but also with curiosity. It is a combination I have seen many times on the faces of ensigns during their first participation in a landing party. He shakes his head.

I am not as skilled in exaggeration as Jim, but I will try my best.

"Our first meeting was unique, I am sure. The first time I met your father was when he was a cadet in the academy and I was an instructor. I had heard of him, as he had a rather... interesting reputation that was widely known, but the first time I actually saw him was when he cheated on a test I created."

His eyes widen further, which I would have said was impossible. "He cheated?"

"Yes, although, he would tell you it was not cheating and merely original thinking. Do not allow him fool you, however. He did cheat."

"How?" he asks.

"By putting a subroutine to alter the conditions of my simulation."

Sbahnak's shaking began to decrease, and he seemed thoroughly distracted, not reacting to another low rumble of thunder. Being a good sign, I decide to continue.

"Our first meeting was at the academic hearing to discuss his violation. I cannot say that my first impression of him was positive. I found him to be arrogant, stubborn, disrespectful and of course to have no regard for regulations.

"We had a rather heated debate. I claimed that he merely did not like to fail. Your father may have been foolish, but he was not unintelligent by any means. He easily scored at the top of all his classes. I believe an inability to pass this test annoyed him."

"Why could he not pass this test?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I programmed the test so that there was no way to pass it," I explained. "It was meant to show that there was always the possibility of a situation one could not win."

Sbahnak frowns. "Dad says there are no no-win scenarios."

I nod and hide a smile. I was not present when Jim recounted the incident of the _Kelvin_, but I cannot say I am surprised Jim taught him this. "That was the argument he made. He called the test unfair and accused me of holding a grudge against him for passing my test."

"Did you?" he asked quietly, leaning forward as if we were in a crowded room and he was asking to be told a secret.

I pause to ponder a moment before responding, copying his low tone, "I will admit that your father being able to hack into my program did cause me some pique."

He seems rather amazed.

"Of course, that was not the reason I charged him with cheating," I say, returning to my regular tone. "He broke the rules, and those who break the rules must face the consequences."

"What happened after that?" He does not appear to be shaking anymore, something for which I am grateful.

"Our debate was pre-maturely ended when the distress call occurred. He was put on probation and restricted to the ground."

He frowns, looking confused. "But how did he get aboard the ship?"

"He stowed away onto the _Enterprise_," I explain.

"He did?" he asks surprised.

I nod. "Yes, which merely further proved my argument that he had no regard for the rules."

He hesitates, looking uncertain. "But he saved the day," he clarifies.

I raise an eyebrow. "He played a significant role, yes, but that does not truly justify his violation of regulations."

He thinks a moment. "Dad told me many stories where you broke rules with him. Are these stories not true?"

I shake my head. "No. The details are probably exaggerated, but it is likely that the general facts are accurate."

"Then you _do_ break rules," he says slowly. "But you said–" he began, but was cut off by an exceptionally loud clap of thunder. He jumps, startled. He grips my shirt and buries his face in the fabric again.

I wrap my arms protectively around him, rubbing his trembling back soothingly. "Yes," I say quietly next to his ear. "I do, but you must understand that during that trial, I had also been intelligent but foolish.

"Your father broke regulations for something that did not truly matter. The test was based on participation, not the outcome. I refused to break regulations, even at a higher risk of the death of many people. I assume he told you how I wished to rejoin the fleet when Captain Pike was captured at risk to Earth?"

Sbahnak gives a small nod.

"Jim, your father, and I taught and learned from each other. He learned that he cannot merely disregard all of the regulations because he does not like them; I learned that while the regulations are important, there are instances when they must be broken if it means preserving life, which is the most sacred thing in the universe. Do you understand?"

He is silent for a moment. "I think so," he says, his voice muffled and wavering. "Only break rules if it's really important?"

I consider it. "I believe a better moral would be to protect life, no matter what form it may take, even if it means violating regulations."

I can feel him begin to relax again. "I like that better. Important is a variable definition, differing for every person," he replies with a nod.

The side of my mouth twitches up. "Indeed," I say, glad to see that he has retained some of what I have tried to teach him.

Thunder rumbles loudly, causing him to clutch my shirt tighter. "I'm worried about Dad," he confesses softly after a moment.

"He is safe at the grocery store," I assure him. "He could be standing on an erupting volcano and be safer than when he drives that hovercar."

I can hear Sbahnak's muffled giggles.

I decide that although Jim had been wrong on many counts during that hearing, there is at least one thing he had been completely correct about: There is no such thing as a no-win scenario.

* * *

**Author's note: **This is going to sound weird, but I based Sbahnak's reaction to thunderstorms on my dog. But then I always reacted the same way when I was younger too, so we just kinda huddled together in the bathtub. And of course this was Texas, which has really strong thunderstorms.

Thanks for reading! Reviewing would be lovely, really it would! :3


	4. Sarek

Sarek sat on his calves on the meditation mat. His hands rested on the top of his thighs. He was looking down to the small boy sitting before him in a similar fashion. They said nothing. Sarek was waiting for Sbahnak to lose his patience. He has lasted much longer than Sarek had predicted, but Sbahnak's resolve was beginning to waiver. His fingers began to fidget every so often, and by the slight movement in his boots, he could infer that he was wiggling his toes. He obviously inherited his human father's difficulty with idleness.

Sarek had to admit, he had not expected to ever have a grandchild, especially after Spock had informed him of his relationship with James Kirk. Sarek would have accused him of a rather poor practical joke if he had not known Spock was, in fact, very much Vulcan and would not participate in such things.

Sarek had been asked by his son to look after Sbahnak. Spock and James wished for a few weeks alone, something they had not had since Spock's last _pon farr_ over two years ago. Sarek had originally hesitated. He had not taken care of a young child since Spock, who was not at all as excitable.

The first thing Sarek noticed about Sbahnak was his resemblance to both of his fathers. His endless energy reminded him instantly of James. While the child attempted to be Vulcan, at least in some ways, he had far too much liveliness to be able to sit still and meditate. His demeanor, however, reminded him of Spock, although Sbahnak had more confidence.

It was obvious that Spock was very proud of his son despite this. He was intelligent, quite on par with Vulcans of his age, although he could use improvement in the Vulcan language. He was also physically healthy, though his physiology was more on par with a human child. He also had an insatiable curiosity, which Sarek was keen to nurse. He had an affinity towards computers and science. Sarek contemplated suggesting to the boy that he should consider attending the Vulcan Science Academy, but given the result of his attempt with own son, he chose not to try to influence him. Not at this date.

"_Sa'mekh'al_," Sbahnak suddenly spoke, bringing Sarek back from his thoughts.

"Yes, Sbah_-kan_?"

He squirmed slightly. "I need to pee."

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "Urinate," he corrects. "Do you remember the location of the _uzhau-ret_?"

Sbahnak glanced quickly around the room. "I do," he said, sounding more confident than he looked.

"One should not lie, Sbah_-kan_," he warned.

"I did not lie," he said, his chin raised. "It is next to the… to the…" He hesitates for a long moment. "The _sh… shi…_"

"_Shi-yem_?" Sarek suggested.

Sbahnak smiled before quickly making his face neutral again. "Yes, it is next to the _shi-yem_," he said with no emotion.

Sarek nodded. "Very well. Do you require assistance?"

"I do not."

"Then go to the _af'tum_ when you have finished. I will be awaiting you there. It is near to the time to begin preparing _aru-yem._"

Sbahnak gave a strong nod and arose, requiring the use of his hands on the mat to stand. He gave a slightly awkward but respectable bow before walking to the bathroom.

Sarek stood as well, though with far more grace, and walked to the kitchen to await his grandson.

Amanda would have loved this child, he knew. She would have doted on him in ways she had not been permitted with Spock. Sarek suppressed a feeling of regret. They had agreed to raise Spock as a Vulcan, but that did not make it any less difficult for her. She, however, never attempted to renege on their agreement. She of course had her small indulgences, which he would permit from time to time. And he suspected she was more lenient on him while Sarek was not present.

Now he wished he had not prohibited so much.

"What shall we be having for dinner?" Sbahnak asked as he climbed up onto the stool next to the counter.

"What do your fathers normally prepare?"

Sbahnak hesitated. He tilted his head, which reminded Sarek greatly of Spock when he was younger. "They cannot cook," he said. "The last time they tried they nearly destroyed the kitchen."

Sarek looked down at him blankly. This somehow did not surprise him. "You have never cooked?"

"I have cooked with Nyota-_il_ and Bones two and four times, respectively."

It took a moment for Sarek to remember whom the name 'Bones' referred. "Have you ever cooked for your fathers?"

He shook his head. "No, I have not."

"Would you like to learn how to cook something for them?"

Sbahnak's eyes lit up. "Yes, I would."

"Perhaps something simple," Sarek mused.

"Not plomeek soup," Sbahnak said quickly. "Dad does not like it."

He paused before nodding. That was one of the options he was considering, but he could easily choose another. "Very well. Will _balkra_ do?" When Sbahnak hesitated, he explained. "It is a casserole made of vegetables much like Terra's squash."

Sbahnak considered it. "That is acceptable."

Before they actually cooked the food, Sarek instructed Sbahnak on how to do each step so he would know what to do. Because he had made a casserole with 'Bones', he was able to build upon is earlier knowledge and learned very quickly. In the end, Sarek only supervised and gave an approving nod if Sbahnak hesitated and looked up to him for confirmation. While the _balkra_ did not look correct or appetizing, the taste and texture was acceptable.

Once dinner was eaten and the dishes were all cleaned and placed in their proper locations, Sarek could see that Sbahnak was tired. "Perhaps you should retire to bed."

Sbahnak gave a lolling nod. "I…" He yawned loudly, his mouth opening wide. It was not something Vulcans should do, but Sarek chose not comment on it. "I concur," he finally managed to say. He suddenly opened his arms and looked up at Sarek expectedly.

Sarek looked down to him. "What are you doing?"

He frowned and did not correct the expression. "Dad always gives me a hug before I go to bed."

Sarek stiffened and did not move. "Vulcans do no hug."

"_Sa-mekh_ does."

"I do not."

Sbahnak looked at him suspiciously. "Didn't you ever hug _Ko'mekh'il_?"

Sarek's eye widen momentarily at such a forward question. "If she insisted," he admitted.

"Then I insist as well," he said determined.

Sarek raised an eyebrow. He supposed he could not refuse his grandson. He rather awkwardly bent down and wrapped his arms around Sbahnak, who tightly wrapped his thin arms around his neck. Sarek's eyebrows rose as he was suddenly strongly hit with emotions, warm, happy, loving emotions he hadn't felt since Amanda.

Sarek straightened and looked down curiously at his grandson. "Are you aware you opened your mental shields, rather than closed them?"

Sbahnak nodded. "I did it on purpose."

Sarek paused for a moment. "Explain."

"Dad says a hug is used to convey and share the emotion of love. I reasoned it would be rude of me to block out this emotion from reaching others if they are sending the same to me."

Sarek paused. "That is logical," he had to acknowledge.

"_Lau yuk-tor t'du ralash-fam_," Sbahnak stated emotionless, but tired.

Sarek nodded. "_T'du isha._" As he watched his grandchild walk towards the sleeping area, Sarek knew Amanda would have loved him. And he did as well.

**Translations: **_Sa'mekh'al _– Grandfather. Sbah-_kan _– An endearing nickname (_kan _– child_)__. Uzhau-ret _– bathroom_. Shi-yem _– dinning room_. Af'tum _– kitchen_. Aru-yem_ – dinner. Nyota-_il _– Aunt Nyota_. Balkra_ – vegetable casserole_._ _Ko'mekh'il_ – Grandmother._ Lau yuk-tor t'du ralash-fam_ – May your sleep be silent._ T'du isha _– Yours as well. (I made the last two phrases up. And I chose a Japanese-style for titles)

* * *

**Author's note: **I love Sarek. Especially the TOS Mark Lenard Sarek. I need to do a Sarek/Amanda story, seriously. Or a Mark Lenard Romulan Commander story. Something with Mark Lenard. Because I want to marry him. By the way! For future reference: If Sbahnak says 'Dad' or 'Father', he is referring to Jim. If he says '_Sa'mekh_' (father in Vulcan), he is referring to Spock.

Peachly

P.S. I cannot cook. I want Mark Lenard to teach me how.


	5. Puppy

Sbahnak stands on his toes as he tries to put his head over the barrier, his hands on the clear wall on either side of his head as he peers in.

I grab his shoulders and pull him back slightly. "You are placing smudges on the plastic," I say.

"He's just excited," Jim grins as he picks him up to rest him on his hip. He leans over the wall to look into the small enclosure.

Sbahnak looks down with wide eyes at the small, whimpering puppies that dance on their hind legs as they try to reach them for affection. Or perhaps they smell our lunch.

"Do you want to pet one?" Jim asks.

Sbahnak blinks. "No," he says as he leans back.

Jim tilts his head back and looks at him with a hidden smile. "No? You don't want to pet the puppies?"

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"They're very… jumpy," he says.

Jim snorts. "Of course. They're puppies, and they're eager to meet you."

"Meet me?" he asks, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, as he seemed to give the canines more consideration.

"Of course!" Jim says grinning. He shifts Sbahnak in his arms and holds him lower. The dogs jump up and begin to lick the boy's cheeks, causing him to begin to giggle and squirm.

I stiffen before quickly grabbing Sbahnak from Jim's hold and taking him away from the animals. "That is very unsanitary," I scold.

Jim's surprise changes to a pointed look. "The point of being a kid is getting dirty and germy. And the point of having a puppy is affection. The most adorable thing in the world is a puppy kissing a child's cheeks."

I raise an eyebrow. "Perhaps another pet would be advisable."

"But they me," Sbahnak protests.

Jim grins. "The best animal to get a kid is a dog."

"I am sure that is a matter of opinion," I state as I begin to walk around the pet shop to find more pets. "There is no harm in examining other pets."

"You just don't want a dog because you're part cat," Jim says, bringing a hand up to brush along the shell of my ear.

I suppress a shudder and give him a warning look. "While I do prefer cats to dogs, the theories concerning my ancient ancestry have nothing to do with it." I place Sbahnak back onto the ground before addressing him. "Peruse the shop and consider all of the pets available. If you still find you want a canine, we shall buy one."

Sbahnak nods before beginning to walk through the store, Jim and I following.

"I still think a dog is the best," Jim says. "I can give you some logical reasons. I _have_ actually thought about this."

"I assume you are referring to the responsibilities required. This is a trait of owning any pet, not merely a dog," I say as Sbahnak takes a closer look at a snake. I refuse to buy one but luckily do not need to comment when he scrunches is nose and continues walking.

"Yeah, but what about companionship?" Jim asks, lifting up Sbahnak at his prompting to get a closer look at an aquarium of hermit crabs. "You can't really play with a cat."

"Perhaps," I say, admitting to myself that I had not considered Sbahnak's emotional needs. It is not a concern Vulcan parents generally have. "Cats are more independent, but that allows us freedom from needing to return home to allow the dog out. We must also consider the fact that we live in an apartment." I think a moment. "What about a tribble?"

"Sbahnak has a lot of energy." Jim smiles as they look at what can only be described as a furry, purple lizard. "Tribbles are okay, but they don't do a lot, and you don't need to feed it or take care of it or anything. With a dog, he can take them for walks and that park is only a block away. You've been saying how Sbahnak needs to get outside more, right?"

"Will the dog always be so excitable?" Sbahnak suddenly asks, looking up at Jim from his crouched position to look at green mice low on the shelf.

"Naw, when they grow up, they'll mellow out, maybe in a year or a two."

Sbahnak looks up to me, his eyes pleading. "I want to look at the dogs again."

I study him a moment, and he begins to squirm under my gaze. I glance to Jim, who is smiling smugly. "Have you considered all of your options?"

Sbahnak nods.

"Very well," I concede, not pointing out that we have not actually browsed the whole store. "We will look at the juvenile canines once again."

They both beam at me before heading back to the front of the store. Jim leans over the enclosure again with Sbahnak resting on his canted on his hip again. "Which one do you want to look at?"

"That one!" Sbahnak points to a fluffy puppy that has a black back and tan stomach.

Jim grins. "A German Shepherd? A good choice."

"How large does this breed grow?" I ask.

"Uh," Jim frowns. "I guess 30 kilograms, maybe more?"

"That is a rather large sized dog for an apartment," I note.

"A little, but our apartment's pretty big," he says before setting our son down. He reaches over and snatches up the dog. It wiggles and barks before settling in the crook of Jim's bent elbow.

"I wanna hold him," Sbahnak declares, jumping up and down and reaching up with grabbing hands.

Jim studies it a moment. "Her," he corrects. "It's a girl puppy."

"I want to hold her," he says, settling down to rock on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back.

Jim looks down at him speculatively. "I don't think so. I don't want to have to chase her all around the store if she twists and you accidentally drop her."

Sbahnak doesn't frown, but I know he must be suppressing one. "I will not drop her."

"How about I hold her, and you say, 'Hi'?" he suggests as he holds the puppy down.

Sbahnak brings a hand up and carefully pets the dog's head. The dog squirms and licks at his face and hand, causing him to giggle lowly again before suppressing the noise.

I wince and resist the urge to pull him back again.

Jim notices my discomfort and grins. He brings the dog up and holds it out to me. "Come on, Spock. Give the little girl a chance."

I look down at it a moment before taking the dog from Jim. Its fur is surprisingly soft. I rest it on my arm and bring a hand up to pet its back. It barks happily.

"See? She likes you," Jim says in the same tone of voice he used to use when Sbahnak was an infant. I raise my eyebrow.

"This dog is the most logical choice, _sa-mekh_," Sbahnak declares, his back straight and his hands clasped behind his back. He is attempting to be unemotional, but his bouncing shows his excitement. "Please?"

I suddenly have three sets of 'puppy eyes' staring at me.

I exhale heavily. "Very well," I acquiesce.

I know the dog does not have the intelligence to understand what I said, so it barking loudly at that moment was merely a coincidence.

* * *

**Author's note: **I've been neglecting Sbahnak! D: Sorry little guy! Here's a puppy!


End file.
